


Fractured

by etotakatsuki



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: F/M, No Eto/Haise, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 16:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5133908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etotakatsuki/pseuds/etotakatsuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sasaki feels like the conversation has taken a dangerous turn, like with each word, he’s stepped further onto an expanse of ice, and it’s just cracked beneath his feet."</p><p>Or, Sasaki meets an unsettling woman in a coffee shop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fractured

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in the TG:re universe, but after a Root A type series of events where Kaneki joined Aogiri to kill the One-Eyed King like in Ishida's draft.
> 
> From a tumblr prompt: "Things you said that made me feel like shit."
> 
> This is a companion to [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4305432/chapters/11814023).

It starts on a whim.

Sasaki stopped frequenting other coffee shops after he found :re – other coffee just couldn’t compare. But today, for some reason, he finds himself standing outside a small cafe, frozen by a forboding sense of familiarity, and an unresistable urge to enter.

His first impression of the shop is a pleasant one. The soothing smell of fresh coffee permeates the air, and the walls are lined with bookshelves. When he approaches the counter, the barista smiles warmly at him, and makes pleasant conversation as she brews his coffee. He takes a seat by the front window, where he can peruse one of the bookshelves, and sips his coffee. It’s not as good as :re’s, but it’s certainly not bad. He decides his first impression, that chill running down his neck that told him to stay away, must have been a mistake.

And then She swoops inside, hair billowing behind her, arrival hailed by the tinkling of the bell on the door. She approaches the counter wearing a broad grin, and addresses the barista with familiarity, asks for her usual.

Sasaki can’t tear his eyes away, can’t relieve himself of the icy feeling of dread creeping up his spine as she turns, locks eyes with him, and smiles. He feels like he’s being devoured.

The barista slides her drink across the counter – an iced coffee with milk – and she looks way from him to thank her. He feels like he can breathe again, and he looks down at his nearly-finished black coffee to keep from meeting her eyes again. But a moment later, she slips into the seat across from him.

“You can’t know this,” she begins, voice lilting melodically over her words, “but you’re in my spot.”

Sasaki stutters an apology, and begins to push his chair back, and she laughs – full peals that wash over him and leave him feeling exposed.

“You don’t have to move,” she tells him, and he dares to raise his eyes. She’s giving him another crafted grin, one that attempts to be disarming. But there’s a hint of something dangerous lurking just beneath the surface, on the sharp edge of her teeth –

“It’s the best spot for eyeing the bookshelves, after all.” She gives him an expectant look, and takes a long sip of her coffee.

“Ah, yes,” Sasaki answers, trying to find his bearings. “That was why I chose it.” A nervous laugh bubbles up from his throat without his consent.

She nods knowingly. “A book lover, hm? I consider myself one. Do you have any recommendations for me?”

There’s a familiarity to this conversation that unsettles him. It’s an itch in the back of his skull. He should know this woman. Does she know him?

He swallows around his dry tongue, “I really enjoy Kafka.”

She smiles and nods. “Nice choice. He’s one of my favorites too.”

He knew that, Sasaki thinks to himself, even as he feigns surprise. How did he know that?

“Have you read Takatsuki Sen’s works?” she asks, and despite the softness of her voice, the glint in her eyes makes him stiffen.

“Yes, of course,” he answers. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

The woman leans forward, her eyes darkening. “Oh? And what did you think?” she prompts.

Sasaki feels like the conversation has taken a dangerous turn, like with each word, he’s stepped further onto an expanse of ice, and it’s just cracked beneath his feet. One wrong step could send him plunging to his doom.

He gasps for air, already feeling like he’s drowning, “I’m not fond of stories where the main character dies. Her writing is skillful, to be sure. But I get the feeling she’s… lost, hopeless, sunk into despair. And that’s why she wants to destroy everything.”

An expression flickers across the woman’s face – fury? pain? – but it’s gone in a blink. Or maybe it was Sasaki’s imagination.

“I see,” the woman says. “Interesting perspective.” She sips the last of her coffee through her straw, and sets the empty glass on the table so abruptly, Sasaki flinches. Or maybe that was from the energy she exuded as she pushed back her chair – dangerous and volatile.

She smiles again, and Sasaki knows it’s meant to be calming, but it only sets his nerves on edge. “I’ve something to attend to. It’s been lovely chatting with you, …?”  
   
“Sasaki,” he supplies, unable to help himself. “Sasaki Haise.”  
   
Her grin widens. He can’t look away from her teeth. “Sasaki Haise,” she repeats, and he has to suppress his shiver at the sound of his name on her tongue.  
   
She gives him one last look, one that feels like she’s seeing through him, reading him when he doesn’t even understand his reactions himself. And then she’s turning, flitting towards the door, steps away from disappearing from his life as quickly as she entered it.

“Ah, wait, miss –” he calls out, extending his hand towards her even as she moves out of reach, even as everything inside of him is screaming to stay away from her. But the sick sense of nostalgia is already eating him alive. He has to know, he can’t live with not knowing – “Um, do you mind if I ask your name?”

She turns, fixes her eyes on him, and he feels his cheeks heat, like he could melt under the intensity of her gaze. She stares at him for a long moment, face unreadable, until finally, she splits her face with another predatory grin. Sasaki feels the hair on his neck stand.

She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small metal card holder, and flicks it open to remove a card in one practiced movement, fingers moving so quickly Sasaki can barely follow them.

She holds her card out to him, and he takes it with both hands, his eyes still fixed on her unsettling smile.

“Feel free to call if you want to chat again. I have a surprising amount of free time,” she tells him, and he feels like she’s mocking him.

And then she spins, hair flying around her, and she is out the door and down the street a moment later.

He stares at the door long after she leaves, until the tension she’d infected in him starts to settle. Only then does he let himself exhale, and let his eyes drift down to her business card, and he feels his mouth go dry.

Her name stands out against the grey background in sharp, dark red ink.

Takatsuki Sen.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk I like writing about Eto and Haise meeting.


End file.
